


hiding from the sun

by neonheartbeat



Series: Filled Prompts [5]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Crash Landing, Disguise, F/M, Force Bond (Star Wars), Heat Stroke, Jakku, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Pilot Rey, Poe Dameron Is Having A Terrible Day, Protective Kylo Ren, Resistance, Space Battles, Tumblr Prompt, Water, We Don't See It But He Just Is, X-Wing(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-27
Updated: 2018-09-27
Packaged: 2019-07-18 03:27:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,403
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16109822
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/neonheartbeat/pseuds/neonheartbeat
Summary: Rey, freshly minted Resistance X-wing ace, is shot down over a familiar planet, but not-so familiar territory, and trapped there, due to a series of unfortunate happenstances out of her control. What happens next is up to Kylo Ren. Oh, and the Force, of course.Featuring the Force-bond, Rey languishing under the effects of heatstroke, Kylo Ren doing his best, and perhaps...redemption, depending on how you look at it.





	hiding from the sun

**Author's Note:**

> Tumblr prompt from anonymous: "In which Rey is stranded on a deserted planet somewhere and reaches out to the force for help and guess who mf shows up through the force bond." Who mf indeed, anon. Who MF INDEED.
> 
> Edit: clara-gemm on tumblr has drawn a beautiful sketch of Rey in her T-70 cockpit, and I am shook. THANK YOU.Go follow her.

 

 

Funny how the universe worked, really, thought Rey. You thought you wanted to go back somewhere for so long, and then you half-forgot about it, and before you knew it you were being thrust directly back into the path you _thought_ you wanted to be on ages ago but goodness, if the universe wasn't bloody inconvenient at times.

At least she could compartmentalize under stress. "This is Red Five, I'm losing power," she said calmly into her helmet as the alarms all went off at once in her cockpit. Outside, the planet below her, a familiar and yet strange expanse of gray and brown, like the curve of a head, spun dizzily. _No, I am spinning. Don't let your sight fool you._ She flicked on the backup power as Poe's voice, tinny and small through her comms, raised urgently.

" _Black Leader to Red Five! Pull up! You're heading for the surface, and your rear engines are shot!"_

"I _know_ ," she said, gritting her teeth as she tried to restore power. So, so stupid. She hadn't even been hit by a blaster bolt in this stupid skirmish—the ancient engines on her T-70 had just conked out and the left one was on fire, the flames burning brighter as she approached the atmosphere of the planet below.

Jakku.

Home.

Now, probably her grave.

The last vestiges of emergency power died, and her instrument panels went black, her yoke a piece of immovable durasteel in her hands. "Red Five. Power's gone." A sinking sense of dread filled her as she tried to physically force the yoke to move—it was no good, without power it was like trying to move a Hutt with two hands. "I'm heading for the surface." Gravity had started to pull at her, dragging the blood from her brain, and she felt very sleepy, her eyes fluttering shut as she spun into an arc. "I'm. Hey. Poe."

" _Black Leader to Red Five! Eject! Rey! Eject!!"_ Poe's voice was frantic, screaming, distant in her ear. _"You have atmosphere! I repeat, you have atmosphere! Eject!!"_

Hmm. Eject. She slipped her hands down along the seat and found the lever. Maybe not just yet. Maybe she would take a nap first.

Above her, the dark, angular form of a TIE Silencer swept across her bow in a mirrored roll, and she thought she might be dreaming it; then a great whoosh of air struck her and she was flying, stars and sky and ground all a blur, and she closed her eyes and knew nothing else for a while.

 

* * *

 

The sensation of sand blowing across her face woke Rey from dreamless unconsciousness, and she jerked awake to find herself on her back, legs in the air, still strapped securely in her seat, a parachute flapping wildly in the desert wind behind her.

She lifted her head and spit out sand, then reached down to tug herself free of the seat. Her hands were shaking slightly, and she managed to undo the harness and rolled sideways, coughing and shielding her eyes from the wind and sand.

Home, sweet home.

Rey took her helmet off and brushed sand out of her hair. It had somehow gotten down the back of her flight suit, and she could already feel sweat trickling down the back of her neck. Reaching for the survival kit under her seat, she dragged out a set of flare blasters, a homing beacon, a pack of rations, a canteen of water, and a compass. Her X-wing was a ruined hunk of metal, far off in the distance, smoke rising from the twisted hull.

Well. Nothing to be done for it. Rey activated the beacon and tied it to her wrist, then stood up, slung the pack on her back, put her helmet back on (it would be heavy, but at least it was some sun protection) and began to walk north. If she recognized the terrain properly, she was sure that a few dozen klicks north there was a settlement, and maybe water and food. By the position of the sun, it was a few hours until nightfall, and she had a ways to go.

 

* * *

 

It was just approaching nightfall when Rey stumbled upon an ancient Star Destroyer's hollowed hull, looming above her in the dusk as she climbed to the top of a dune.

Well, anything was better than walking more. She was halfway to empty on her water, and so hungry she could have eaten her own boots. The flight suit and gear weighed her down, and she shuffled down the dune and headed for the shelter of the gaping hull, exhausted and glad of the shelter.

Inside, it was cool, shadowed and huge. Rey found a little niche against the outer hull and flicked on the glow-rod from her survival pack, setting it on a ledge, and dumped a tiny amount of water into her dehydrated rations. The pack gurgled and the insta-starch loaf expanded, and as she waited, she undid her vest, tossing it aside, and unfastened her suit to the waist, tying her sleeves around her middle and exhaling in relief as the heat escaped. Her identitags jingled slightly as she bent to pick up the food, a reminder of her duties.

It had only been her third flight out with the squadrons, and she'd managed to kark it up. Massively. Rey sighed and ate the bread and protein in a few quick bites, then washed it down with half a swallow of water. "Conserve it," she told herself.

They shouldn't have put her in that stupid X-wing. She'd told them that the power circuits looked fried, but they had no other options and no time to repair it before the _Finalizer_ had appeared in their viewports. She could still hear Poe screaming for her to pull up, to eject—

Rey frowned. She didn't remember actually ejecting, come to think of it. She did remember the blood rushing to her feet as gravity's well pulled her into the atmosphere, and the heat, and—

The TIE Silencer. A chill went down her spine. She had seen the sharp wings, pointed front; the black hull as it stayed steady spinning along her wild descent, matching her fall in reverse, the one fixed point in a world of mad color and movement. She hadn't seen its occupant, and she wasn't sure she cared to know who it was.

Outside, the wind died down, sand drifting across the little threshold of her hiding-hole. _I should start walking,_ she thought to herself, wiping sweat from her face. Her hair was stuck to her forehead.  _I should travel at night and shelter in the daytime._ But her legs were so tired, and she didn't know where the nearest shelter would be when day broke. _Just a rest. I'll just sit here and rest for a minute._ Somewhere in the back of her mind, she knew she was dehydrated, or on the way to it. She was losing water fast, and didn't have enough for the trek to the northern settlement.

She leaned her head back against the cold durasteel and shut her eyes. _Please_ , she said to the Force. _I need help. I can't do this on my own._

Exhaustion crept up on her, and she slept.

 

* * *

 

"Rey."

She stirred, fighting wakefulness. It was so hot. Her skin felt sticky, her mouth was dry as paper and tasted like smelt. "No," she mumbled. "G'way." The voice was vaguely familiar, male and urgent. At first she thought it was Poe, but that wasn't right—this voice was lower, more even and less soft, less warm.

"Rey. You need to open your eyes." Yes, whoever he was, he was distressed, his voice tightly controlled. "Open your eyes."

"No," she mumbled, turning her head to the side and covering her ears. _Let me sleep in peace. I wasn't thirsty when I was asleep._

There was a liquid sound, a splashing. Rey's eyes opened, half-gummed up, and she raised herself on one bare arm, looking for the noise.

Kylo Ren was crouched a meter away, pouring water into a cup.

Rey blinked and stared. She must be hallucinating. Her brain was shorting out, the neurons misfiring, making her see things that weren't—

He held out the cup. She could almost smell the water. "Take it. Drink." The gesture was strangely familiar, something she'd seen him do before.

Then she remembered. "The bond," she croaked. Her arms weren't working, and her head was spinning. She leaned back against the durasteel and tried to gather enough strength to sit up again. She wanted the water. She needed the water, and she was too weak to reach out. "I—I can't—"

"Here." He came closer, and she wanted to kick him, to push him over and shake him, but she was too sapped of strength to do a thing as he carefully held the glass to her mouth and tipped it.

Cool, clear, fresh water soaked Rey's mouth. She choked, grasped at the glass, and gulped it down in one go, her fingers tight around his. "How—"

"After the second time we saw each other, across the link—I realized liquid could be transferred. There was water on my face from the rain you were standing in on Ahch-To." Kylo set the glass aside (she heard a _clink_ , but he had set the glass in sand) and stripped his glove off, feeling intently for her pulse at her throat. "How long have you been on the surface?"

"I don't know," she said, her eyes drifting shut again. She forgot why she wanted to hit him. His hand was cold against her skin. It felt lovely. "A while. Nobody's come for me yet."

"Their command station was... incapacitated in the battle." Kylo's face betrayed nothing. "You have the beginnings of heatstroke. Your pulse is rapid and you're not sweating. You need to cool down."

"I can't," she said hoarsely. "'S like an oven in here."

He did something with the canteen at her side she couldn't focus on, and before she could react, cool water had soaked her head, dribbling down into her eyes, off her chin, warm by the time it seeped into her undershirt. Rey gasped and blinked, shaking herself, but he was pressing a wad of wet cloth to her forehead and actually, that felt pretty good. "Lie down. Can you take off your boots?"

"No. Why're you helping me?" She scowled up at him as she half-collapsed on her back, panting.

"Because I didn't intend for you to get marooned on Jakku," he said shortly. "Foot up."

He tugged off her flight boots and her socks, then reached up to untie the knotted orange sleeves that were bunched around her waist. Rey slapped weakly at his hand as he made to undo the thick knots. "Stop that."

"This," he said, pointing at the suit, "is an insulation suit. It's designed to keep heat in, not out. It needs to come off you if you're going to lower your body temperature. Once it's off, you get another drink."

"Fine," she mumbled, and lifted her hips as he untangled the heavy material and tugged it down and off her body, undoing all the clasps and snaps and straps as if he did it every day. She felt exposed, lying there in her basics and her undershirt in the sand, her identitags jingling as Kylo Ren lifted her shoulders and wadded the suit behind her head. He didn't seem to care.

"Here." He lifted the cup to her mouth again, and she swallowed down more water. "Easy. Go slow. There. I'll refill your canteen."

"Don't go," she rasped, clinging to his wrist; but he was up already, and the sound of water rushing into her empty canteen was heavenly. He knelt and set it back at her side, cold and solid and full. "Are you—where are _you_ right now?"

Kylo sprinkled water across her undershirt, wetting her thoroughly. She shivered. "In my 'fresher on board the _Finalizer_. I guess the Force knew you needed access to water."

"The Force," she whispered, and closed her eyes. She'd asked the Force for help, but this wasn't the help she'd particularly wanted. "What did you mean, you didn't intend for me to get marooned?"

He didn't answer, just kept splashing water on her until she was damp and her skin was chilly to the touch. Once he was satisfied, he sat back slightly. "I triggered your ejection seat," he said.

"You were—" Rey swallowed. "The TIE. You were in it."

"Yes." Kylo wet a loose sleeve of her jumpsuit and pressed it to her neck. "Try not to shiver. It conserves body heat."

"Why did you t-trigger my seat?"

"Would you have preferred to crash-land?" His voice was testy, sharp and dark. "You were losing consciousness. I could sense it. Dameron almost got himself killed screaming at you to eject. He had four TIE fighters on his tail and almost followed you down. When he saw you'd ejected, he pulled out and got back into the fight. Shot all four TIEs, point blank. Never hesitated."

"But y-you're the S-supreme leader," Rey managed, teeth chattering. "Why would y-you s-save our lives?"

He ignored the question and checked her pulse again, his fingers cool on her neck. "Your pulse is slowing," he said. "Good. I'm going to cool down your arterial points. Hold still."

Rey lay there shivering as he tore apart her jumpsuit sleeves like they were made of flimsiplast and not heavy canvas and soaked the pieces in icy water, pressing two under her armpits, one under her neck, and one under her lower back. He hesitated with the last one, holding it tightly in his fist.

"What?" she said hoarsely, shivering.

"This one goes somewhere a little more…intimate," Kylo said, and laid his other hand on her thigh. She had goosebumps, and she wasn't sure if it was from the cold or from his touch. "Here." He set it carefully over her groin, and Rey stiffened at the intrusive sensation of temperature change over her basics. "Deep breaths. I know it's not pleasant."

"K-kark me, that's _cold_ ," she said, her thighs tensed. "You're going to freeze my parts off."

Kylo Ren allowed himself a very small smile, just at the corner of his mouth. "You'll be fine. Leave those there," he said, and tugged his gloves back on. "Drink the water in your canteen. I'm going to scan for your beacon and come down for you."

"No," she said. "No, I'm not going with you. I'm—" Rey jerked halfway up out of her nest of wet, cold flight suit scraps, indignant and shaking. "I-I'm _not_ joining y-you. If y-y-you think you c-c-can _kidnap_ me—"

"Ah, there we are. Feeling better already, I see." He offered another crooked little half-smile. "I'm not taking you anywhere but back to Resistance Command. Rest."

"But—how c-can you get me b-back to—"

"Trust me." He hesitated, looking at her. "I know you probably won't. Not after—not after the last time."

Rey clenched her teeth together, trying to stop the shivering. "You g-get one free trust c-credit. One. Don't m-make me r-regret it."

"Thank you. Lie down." She got herself back into a flat position and rubbed her arms. "Let me see that beacon."

Rey extended her shaking arm and he squinted at the beacon. "All right. I can track that easily. I'll be down in a few hours, maximum. You stay where you are, and—don't die." The last two words were rough, urgent, almost afraid.

"Right," she chattered. "Sure. Easy." _I've completely lost it._ She turned to ask how long he thought it might take at minimum, but he was gone, not even a footprint in the sand to mark his passing.

A shiver that had nothing to do with the cold water ran up her spine. _I dreamed him. I must have. It's not real—I haven't seen him through the bond since Crait, it's been months. Impossible. A ghost. A hallucination._ At least he'd been kind in her hallucination. At least he'd given her water...

 

* * *

 

 

Rey drifted back into an uneasy sleep as the cold cloth of her torn flight suit warmed to her body. She dreamed she was piloting her X-wing over her old home, the AT-AT in the middle of the desert. People were marching in and out of it, all of her things in their hands, and she was trying to fire on them, but her cannons were smoking, and Kylo Ren was in the cockpit with her, with hands as cold as ice on hers as he tried to help her pilot. She tried to shout, to warn him that they were about to crash into the sand dunes, but he kept telling her to trust him, and there wasn't any time left—

Rey opened her eyes and inhaled sharply, disoriented, then began to cough. She was on her back, half-naked, the rags under her arms and back and neck and over her crotch warm. She was so thirsty she thought she might die, and she had no idea how long it had been since she had closed her eyes.

The canteen was still full, and she grabbed it and choked down the water inside, confused. She was sure she'd been half-empty when she had gotten here—hadn't she had a dream? That Kylo Ren had come to help her pilot the X-wing? No, that wasn't right. She'd dreamed two dreams. He'd come to give her water, and to help her pilot. No, that wasn't right either.

She wiped her mouth and winced against the sunlight of late afternoon, slanting in through the opening in the hull of the Star Destroyer. The beginnings of a headache were lurking at her temples. Her legs felt like rubber, and everything looked vaguely like a fever dream. Had it all been a dream? The Resistance, Luke Skywalker, Finn, Poe? Had she been here the entire time, sleeping on Jakku in the sand while the galaxy spun on?

Slightly panicked, she grasped at her identitags, and pressed the raised Aurebesh lettering stamped on it into her thumb until they stood out, white, in reverse.

REY—PILOT—RES—3041138RT—JAK

"My name," she said. "My job, my employer, my serial number, my homeworld." She said it over and over again a few times, like a mantra, until her breathing slowed. No, it was real. Someone was coming for her. She knew that much, thought she couldn't quite remember who.  _The heat's fried me like a bad circuit._

The light in front of her darkened, and Rey raised her eyes to the opening. A man was crouched over and coming in, a tall man with big shoulders and a solid build. She couldn't make out his features around the sunlight, but he was dressed in a Resistance shuttle and transport uniform, a greeny-yellow drab canvas and white life support vest, harness and boots. It looked like it didn't quite fit: too short in the sleeves and too tight across the shoulders.

"Rey," he said, and she knew his voice, hoarse with worry and relief but low and even. "You're alive. Can you stand up?"

"No," she whispered, voice rough. She shielded her eyes with a hand, licking her cracked lips.

"That's all right. I'll carry you." He crouched by her side and pressed the back of his hand to her forehead, his hair black in the shadow, falling over his eyes.

"Are you real?" she asked, half-dazed, as he reached to scoop her up, the scraps of her flight suit falling to the sandy floor, forgotten. "Ben, is it you?"

"Yes, I'm real. Hold tight." He had her firmly under her back and knees, as if she weighed nothing, and she clamped her fingers into the life-support vest and held on as he carried her out into the blinding sunshine, toward the waiting transport pod.

"Where are we going?" she croaked, her face buried in his chest to shut out the light. The oven-hot wind swept across her bare skin, her feet, her arms; and she thought _Anywhere is better than here._

He lifted her a little higher and carried her into the transport, leaving the sand and heat of Jakku behind as blessed cool air rushed over them both.

"Home," said Ben Solo.


End file.
